Kushina's POV
Weird.
I swear I woke him up this morning.
Didn't I?
I remember standing in his doorway, coffee in hand, calling his name. I remember rolling my eyes when he groaned and pulled the blanket over his head.
Then I came downstairs. Sat down. Took my first sip.
But something about it feels... fuzzy.
Like I'm remembering a dream I didn't know I had. Too clean. Too quiet. Too not me.
That's not how I usually wake him up.
Hell, I don't think I've ever just stood in the doorway like that. I'm more of a kick-it-open, shout-his-name, and maybe throw a pillow type.
And the look on his face just now… flushed, stiff, like a deer caught in a kunai trap.
Did something happen?
No—no, I'm probably just tired.
I take another sip of coffee, watching him from behind the rim of my mug. He's eating like the plate might explode. Won't even look at me.
Weird.
But whatever. If it was important, I'd remember, right?
…Right?
.